Not Too Late
by Katlana Child
Summary: It's not too late to hope for things to take a turn for the best. -Oneshot-


**Hey everyone. This is just a quickie fan fic that I had in mind today and I'm not dead! Just lazy, depressed, and stressed. :) Yeah, it's been a rough last few days. I actually got mad at my best friend yesterday and I threw something at my wall several times during the day. I also created a new dent in my locker because of...You got it; My metaphorical Genevieve Collins. Yes, I have officially had enough of her and...Augh, just thinking about her pisses me off. **

**I'm pretty sure some of you are wondering how the dance went; Well, I had fun with Plastic Fork. It all went downhill when I learned that my wonderful Mal actor was my escort, which basically was the guy I had to eat dinner with. (The whole dance consists of a meet-and-greet, dinner, and dancing. There's also a ChaCha Competition in there somewhere.) Yes, my Mal actor and I danced and I really liked it, but my feelings got involved again and when I saw him dancing with Genevieve, making her seem like she's better...I was really upset. But the best part, Plastic Fork came to my rescue. We participated in the competition together and he was so sweet about it. We made it to the fourth round, when our original goal was to get past the first round. There are six rounds total. **

**So, I told some people I would think of inspiration from this dance. I am getting ideas for maybe a Ken/Amy or a Kai/Amy. I need to take a break in Maltara...Sadly. :)**

**Also, I know I said video requests were closed, (And But I Have Promises To Keep, if you're reading this, please know that I am trying to work on your video, but the stupid weapon cheat refuses to work.) But I need to make a Sims video to present to a group of young women around 14 to 15 years of age. The video will have a song in the background, as usual, but the lyrics have to be clean. (My brother is going to make a documentary on how I make Sims videos and such for a project I need to do. Which does mean my writing will be delayed further.)**

**And last good news, school ends in 18 days! I am so done with this school and can't wait for summer because I am excited for all of the extra sleepy time I'll be getting and all of the free time for story writing! :) **

**I know this sounds odd, but I love all of you guys. I love reading your reviews and laughing because those who review make my day. And to those who just read, believe me, you make my day just as much as the reviewers because you're actually reading what I have written. Thank you!**

* * *

A lone light flickered above the two law enforcers as they made their way across a barren room, each holding a gun and wearing protective armor. The female of the small group looked around quickly, as if anticipating the worst of the worst to happen.

"Mal," she said quietly, "where are they?"

Her partner shook his head. "I thought they were in this area, Natara," he replied just as quietly. He looked around anxiously.

"All this is is just a concrete room," Natara responded. "I can't make out anything."

A click echoed across the room and the two held their breaths.

"Don't. Move," Mal commanded in a hushed voice and his partner gave him a reassuring nod.

"He's right you know," a voice rang out. Natara gasped and twirled around, instantly getting shot at. As soon as the bullet hit, Natara was thrown backwards by the blast. Her vest was seeped in red, which caused Mal to panic. He looked around and held up his gun defensively.

"Come out with your hands up!" he demanded in a roar, but only a chuckle responded and a door slammed shut. Mal ran over to his partner and knelt down.

"Nat, are you okay?" he asked.

"Blood..." Natara muttered. "Lots of blood..."

Mal placed his hand over the wound and applied pressure. "You'll be fine...I promise..."

"Go...Get...Him," Natara said quietly. "Please, Mal. For me."

A girlish laugh bounced across the walls of the single concrete room and Mal looked up in frustration. Natara also shared this look.

"Amy..." Mal muttered. "We're trying to be serious here."

The concrete room gained light and several officers poured into the small room. Natara stood up, Mal providing some assistance, and looked down at her vest.

"Ah, dangit Joe," she growled, "the paint seeped through my vest."

"These paintball vests just aren't what they used to be," Officer Joe Bartaugh replied with a smirk.

Amy, who had been observing this little paintball war from a separate room, entered the main area. Obstacles littered the vast arena, causing some distraction and difficulties among the officers; but also fun.

"Sorry," she apologized instantly. She had gotten back her smile, which everyone had missed so much. Yes, she still missed Ken but she also missed the way she used to be and knew Ken would have liked her to be happier. "But Natara...That was just a tad dramatic, don't you think?"

Natara frowned slightly. "That's usually how things work out in the field, nowadays," she said and Mal chuckled.

"Our life is like a dramatic game," he commented. "We're only trying to please the audience while saving a couple of lives."

"True," Amy agreed and smiled. "Well, we need to get back to training." As Amy rambled on about assigning people into sectors, Mal leaned over to Natara.

"We're on the road to being normal again," he said in a whisper.

Natara smiled. "Mal, I'm sorry to burst your bubble...But it'll never be normal."

Mal shrugged and threw his paint-gun over his shoulder. "Well, it's never too late to hope," he added before walking off to his assigned sector.

* * *

**I love Psych-Outs. Poor plot, but I wanted to write it down. Thank you again and enjoy the rest of your week!**


End file.
